


Weird Is Relative

by ourcrashdownblue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Awkward Conversations, Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Communication, Demisexuality, Dirty Talk, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff and Smut, Forehead Kisses, Gentleness, Gray-Asexual Castiel (Supernatural), Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Porn with Feelings, Relationship Negotiation, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourcrashdownblue/pseuds/ourcrashdownblue
Summary: [From Dean:]  I sorta got something weird I need to talk about w/ u abtCastiel rubbed at his bottom lip which had dipped a little, brow furrowed.  What did that even mean?  He may not have been the most apt when it came to social cues, but even he knew that ‘weird’ could be subjective--especially with his boyfriend.  Whatever ‘weird’ thing Dean wanted to talk about could potentially range anywhere from ‘What would you think if I switched majors from Engineering to Graphic Design?’ (Dean was far more artistic than he gave himself credit for and Castiel wholeheartedly supported that switch) all the way to ‘Is it weird that I sometimes like to wear panties--not ‘cause they’re sexy but...I don’t know, they’re just really freakin’ comfy?’ (another choice Castiel wholeheartedly supported).Whatever it was, Castiel only hoped it at least wasn’t bad ‘weird’.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Garth Fitzgerald IV/Bess Myers
Comments: 22
Kudos: 125





	Weird Is Relative

**Author's Note:**

> I reserve no rights to characters or anything Supernatural-wise. Hope you enjoy!! 
> 
> Disclaimer: Castiel's boundaries and aversions are NOT representative of all asexual/grey-asexual people (obviously).

Castiel shuffled out of the lecture hall, riding the final wave of students to leave  _ 297: Insect Biology _ . Though he usually wasn’t a fan of the texting lingo that seemed to spill into his fellow students’ day-to-day speaking, he had to agree with one particular abbreviation today: T.G.I.F. Dr. Davies' lecture on carpenter bees and their place in the global ecosystem had filled up nearly seven pages of notes for Castiel and made the hour and a half time slot seem to pass in the blink of an eye--but he was still grateful that the weekend had finally arrived.

Setting down his backpack at an empty table in the Commons, Castiel shucked the trench coat he’d carried on his arm over the back of the chair. It had been foolish of him to bring it since it seemed Lawrence was going through an early spring heat wave. He slid his phone from the coat pocket as he took a seat. There was a little red bubble with the number ‘3’ above the Messaging icon.

**[ From Dean: ] Hey Sunshine**

**[ From Dean: ] Hope u had a good day :) U still coming over tonite?**

Castiel felt the corners of his lips pull up and was certain he was doing the ‘gummy grin’ Dean often commented on. He melted into his seat a little and his thumbs hovered over the keypad, he started to tap out a reply when he realized he hadn’t scrolled all the way down the message thread.

**[From Dean:] I sorta got something weird I need to talk about w/ u abt**

Castiel rubbed at his bottom lip which had dipped a little, brow furrowed. What did that even mean? He may not have been the most apt when it came to social cues, but even he knew that ‘weird’ could be subjective--especially with his boyfriend. Whatever ‘weird’ thing Dean wanted to talk about could potentially range anywhere from ‘What would you think if I switched majors from Engineering to Graphic Design?’ (Dean was far more artistic than he gave himself credit for and Castiel wholeheartedly supported that switch) all the way to ‘Is it weird that I sometimes like to wear panties--not ‘cause they’re sexy but...I don’t know, they’re just really freakin’ comfy?’ (another choice Castiel wholeheartedly supported). 

Castiel absently spun his black ring in place on his middle finger, starting and stopping twice before finally replying.

**[From Castiel:] Hello, Dean. Yes, I will be at your dorm at six o’clock. I hope you had a pleasant day as well.**

Castiel’s lip quirked back up slightly when he followed his message with a red heart emoticon.

Whatever it was, Castiel only hoped it at least wasn’t bad ‘weird’.

  
  


::::::::::::::::::::

  
  


Castiel’s alarm went off just as he’d reached the halfway point in editing his latest Envirnonmental Sustainability research paper. He blinked at the familiar dinging, mind still lost in the solar power innovations of Morocco. Oh, that’s right--time to meet Dean. Casitel rubbed at his dry eyes and marked the paragraph he was leaving off on before stacking all his stuff to one corner of his desk. He’d still be working on finalizing the paper before its due date next week, but now his weekend could really begin. He stretched over the back of his chair feeling lighter and looser after his spine let off a series of satisfying pops. His mind was already alight with the sunny grin he’d get to see in less than fifteen minutes.

After throwing his jeans back on from earlier, and slipping on one of the t-shirts he’d borrowed from Dean and conveniently forgot to give back, Castiel slipped his keys and his phone into his pocket and headed to Dean’s building. 

The evening was still warmer than usual and the earthy smells of spring filled Castiel’s nose. Mud, tiny traces of melted snow, and the budding blossoms on the trees made the air lighter and sweeter somehow. It was a glorious night for a walk, maybe he could even convince Dean to take a stroll with him. Did they have plans that evening? Castiel wasn’t sure. There had been a cowboy movie Dean wanted to show him but--oh, that’s right. There was something ‘weird’ to discuss first. 

Castiel’s stomach started to do tiny flips the closer and closer he got to Dean’s building. He spun his black ring in continuous twists. He was sure it was fine. It probably wasn’t gonna be terrible, horrible news like the worst parts of Castiel’s mind were trying to tell him. While Dean’s phrasing didn’t necessarily hint at good news, Castiel had been known to misinterpret others’ behavior more times than he’d like to admit to. This was probably just one of those times. But Dean was his best friend as well as romantic partner, so even if it was a bad ‘weird’, they’d figure it out. They always did.

Castiel almost texted when he got to the locked main entrance of Dean’s building, but a pair of boys were leaving at the same time and Castiel slipped inside before the door could shut behind them. He climbed the familiar stairs, waving when the girl who sat by him in  _ Generals English _ last semester (Dana? Darcy? Daphne?) dropped her laundry basket when she saw him. Why were her cheeks always so pink around him? Perhaps she had rosacea.

At Dean’s landing, Castiel turned the corner and knocked on the thick, dark-stained door with the paper dinosaurs claiming this room as Dean and Garth’s domain.

“Hola amigo!” Garth sing-songed as he opened the door, the familiar mixing smells of Doritios and laundry detergent filling Castiel’s nose. 

“Hello-- _ oof _ ,” Garth’s scrawny frame slammed into Castiel’s causing him to drop back a step. It’d taken quite a few months before he became used to Dean’s extraordinarily affectionate roommate--and even longer for Dean to do so--but Castiel had come to appreciate the other man’s unusual kindness. He counted Garth Fitzgerald as a dear friend, “Hello, Garth. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fantastic, man,” Garth beamed, stepping back for Castiel to enter, “Dean’ll be right back--just went and got you guys dinner I think. I promise I’ll be outta your hair soon, Benny and I are gonna go catch a movie.”

Castiel kicked off his shoes by one of Dean’s pairs and sat in his boyfriend’s desk chair. He absently observed Garth trying on and choosing between flannels that all hung loosely over his bony shoulders. Castiel listened quietly to Garth chatter away about the movie and going to visit Bess at WSU for the weekend. He smiled whenever Garth did and found the man’s overall bubbliness extremely contagious.

“Hmmm,” Castiel looked again between the coziness of the purple plaid flannel and the elegance of the denim shirt Garth held up, “I think you should wear the purple tonight and the denim for tomorrow. I’m sure Bess will be very impressed.”

“Yeah?” the man chuckled, “Great! I wanna be my best self for her, Cas. I swear--just one more year ‘til we graduate and I’ll be a married man. I can’t wait!”

Castiel would’ve had to have been made of stone to not feel his own heart squeeze in second-hand delight. He thought of Dean and his smile grew even wider.

“I’m very happy for you, Garth. Bess is a very fortunate woman.”

Castiel hoped that’d be him someday, too. Dean would look magnificent in a tuxedo.

“Thanks, man,” Garth laughed, pulling on the purple plaid, “But I’m the lucky one. And Dean is very lucky to have you, too--and believe me,  _ he knows it _ .”

Castiel felt a flush stain his cheeks and he fidgeted with his ring again.

“Dean...has an extraordinary soul. I’m the fortu--”

A key suddenly jingled in the thick door’s lock and Dean stepped in, traces of the spring air still radiating from his clothing. Castiel turned in his seat, admiring the broad shoulders and freckled cheeks. Dean’s arms held two white to-go boxes from Biggerson’s, balancing them in his arms along with two matching fountain drinks.

“Oh hey, Cas,” Dean’s smile was bright and genuine, but his eyes darted away before Castiel could meet them.

Castiel reached out to unburden some of the food while Dean tried to wrestle his keys back in his pocket. Salty, delicious smells filled the air and left his mouth watering. He didn’t even need to open the lid to know Dean had gotten him exactly what he ordered every time--it made his stomach feel fuzzy to know Dean had it memorized.

“Hello, Dean. How was your day?” Castiel leaned his cheek out for Dean’s routine quick peck--but Dean breezed right by. The fuzzy feeling began twisting into knots in an instant.

It looked like it was the bad kind of ‘weird’ after all.

Once Dean had shucked his shoes, he went about rummaging through one of the containers in his closet for the reusable utensils Castiel had gotten him for Earth Day since they were better for the environment than the plastic ones wrapped in cellophane that came with all fast food orders.

“Oh, you know,” Dean mumbled, “Just another day in paradise.”

When he turned back to face Castiel and hand him the utensils for his salad, he shot Castiel a smile that didn’t quite touch his forest green eyes. Dean started to pace.

“Alright, folks,” Garth chirped, utterly oblivious to the tightness in Dean’s cheeks and the growing concern Castiel was sure he was not hiding well, “Garth. Out.”

The cheery man rushed between them and out the door, and a wave of some spicy cologne trailing behind him. Castiel’s eyes never left Dean’s face, though Dean kept his own gaze squarely set on his Slammer with Cheese. The sudden silence--aside from Dean’s chewing--felt like a weight on Castiel’s chest. Dean’s own black ring glinted in the fluorescent light with each forkful he shoved into his mouth. He was hardly even chewing anymore, just shovelling the food down in consistent gulps.

Castiel slowly set his salad to the side on Dean’s desk.

“Dean,” his boyfriend’s eyes flashed up, wide and anxious, before darting down again, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Dean gagged and coughed on a piece of lettuce he promptly spit in the trash when Castiel handed him his soda.

“Wha?” he coughed.

“Today you texted me and said you had something ‘weird’ to talk to me about,” Castiel purposefully gestured the implied air quotes since, for whatever reason, Dean seemed to find it funny when he did that. Dean didn’t seem to notice this time.

“Come on, man,” Dean whined, “Don’t you wanna watch a movie or something first? It’s not a big deal,” his increased pacing suggested otherwise.

“Dean,” Castiel firmly said, Dean sagged to sit on the bed across from him. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head. Gently, Castiel stood from the desk and took hold of Dean’s styrofoam container, placing it next to his own abandoned food. Dean didn’t try to fight him, only looked up with resigned eyes as Castiel settled firmly onto Dean’s lap. Without a word, Dean crumpled into him, face-planting into Cas’s collarbone and arms snaking up to squeeze around his waist. Castiel kissed the crown of dark blonde hair before him and rested his own arms around Dean’s shoulders, “Can you please tell me what has you so upset?”

Dean gave an unhelpful grunt that was muffled in Castiel’s t-shirt.

“Whatever it is, I’d like to help if I’m able,” Castiel tried, letting his blunt fingernails scritch over the short hairs at the base of Dean’s skull, “We can figure it out together if you tell me.”

Dean gave a humorless laugh that prickled Castiel’s skin.

“I’m not so sure,” he mumbled.

“Well, I am,” Castiel replied, pulling back enough so that Dean looked up too. He’d only seen Dean this anxious a handful of times and it made his throat feel thick all of a sudden, “Please, Dean. You’re starting to worry me.”

Those seemed to be the magic words as the bitter pinch in Dean’s brow smoothed and turned up in a way that rather resembled a kicked puppy. Castiel kissed his forehead until all the tension there seemed to release and Dean keened into the touch.

“Sorry, Cas,” Dean finally replied, “I just...ah hell, I don’t know how to say it.”

“Then don’t think about it so hard,” Castiel replied, “Just say it however it comes to mind and we’ll clarify anything I don’t understand, okay?” when Dean still held a glint of skepticism in his eyes Cas pressed another kiss to his hairline, “There is nothing to be afraid of, Dean. When have I ever judged you for the things you’ve confided in me?”

“You’re right. I--yeah, I know. Um,” Dean huffed but his jaw loosened. Scrubbing one hand over inexplicably tired features, “I’ve been thinking about a lot of shit lately, Cas. Questioning stuff, ya know?”

A stone started to form cold and heavy in Castiel’s stomach. This was most definitely bad ‘weird’. Was Dean...not sure about them anymore?

“I just don’t want to hurt you and so I’ve been putting it off and putting it off…” he continued and Castiel was already starting to feel something sharp and painful digging into his ribs, “I just want you to be happy but I, uh...”

Castiel couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to know what was going on and he needed to know  _ now _ .

“Dean, this is not making me worry any less,” his mouth felt dry, “If you want to tell me something...or are questioning us, I--”

“‘Questioning us’? Cas, what’re you talking about?”

Castiel’s chest flared with hope but he held himself a little closer to Dean regardless.

“You’re not...reconsidering your feelings for me…?” Castiel muttered, Dean’s eyes suddenly popping wide as his sentence trailed off.

“What? No! Cas, baby, of course not!” He squeezed Castiel tightly to him and buried his head back in Castiel’s chest, “Shit, I’m sorry, buddy. I really fucked up my words there if that’s what I made you think. No, I am  _ not _ reconsidering nothing about us, Cas.”

“That was a double negative, Dean, and highly confusing,” Castiel cleared his throat, trying to swallow back some of the emotion that had risen up.

“See? What’d I do if you weren’t there to whip my grammar into shape? Huh?” Castiel drew away enough to meet the rounded eyes looking back up at him with a shy, apologetic smile pulling up the corners of his lips, “You’re my... _ Cas _ \--I’m plannin’ on sticking around as long as you’ll have me.”

“Yeah?” Cas’s thumb swiped over the shadow of stubble that always tickled when Dean kissed his neck.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Dean’s gentle fingers guided Castiel’s chin to nearly bump Dean’s as he brought them in for a kiss. It was short and sweet but said a million things words would never be able to. 

“So, what did you want to talk to me about then?”

Dean’s serene gaze shattered and his eyes darted down to the industrial carpet that his socked feet rubbed over.

“Guess it can’t sound much worse now since I made you think I wanted to break up with you…”  
“I don’t imagine so.”

“Heh,” Dean’s chuckle was tight and not nearly as free as the belly laughs Castiel so often rejoiced in, “I’m gonna warn ya: it's a super weird thing to ask.”

“Dean, I’m sure you’re just making it sound worse than it could possibly be by this point.”

“Okay--you’re right, you’re right, you’re right,” Dean sighed and squeezed his eyes tight as he said, “I...wanna try something with you. It, uh, it’s a sex thing--kinda.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Castiel felt his eyes widen and saw Dean’s whole face snap into panic.

Well...that was not what Castiel had expected.

“But it’s not like  _ sex _ sex, okay? And if you don’t wanna have anything to do with it we absolutely don’t have to! I just thought maybe we could try it, but if you don’t even want to do that I totally get it! I mean it’s just an idea so it’s not like I even know if I’m gonna like it either I just--”

“Dean?”

“--maybe it’s something we’d both like, or y’know, I guess maybe I’d just like it. Fuck this was so stupid hearing myself say it out loud I have no idea why I’m even asking, of course you don’t--”

“Dean?” this time Castiel’s words were accompanied by a unyielding hand covering Dean’s rambling mouth. Dean’s eyes fell to the carpet again and a shame-filled blush lit up the man’s cheeks. Castiel might’ve found the pinkening adorable if he didn’t already have some guess at what kind of internal turmoil his boyfriend had probably been stewing in for weeks. Now, Castiel wanted to chase the pink away and replace the frown he could feel under his palm. Letting his hand slide to Dean’s freckled cheek, Castiel kissed Dean’s forehead, “Dean, I don’t understand why you are so worried about discussing something that has to do with sex with me.”

“Come on, Cas,” Dean sighed, as though he’d already lost a battle Castiel hadn’t even realized they’d been in, “You know why. For fuckssake, the whole reason we met was because you saw my black ring and thought ‘that dude’s ace, too’--”

“That ‘dude’ was also incredibly handsome and had a stunning, kind smile,” Castiel said firmly, “He also ended up having one of the most caring souls I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

Dean’s slightly stubbled jaw nudged impossibly closer to him and Castiel was oddly reminded of a golden retriever.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“You do know how to make a girl blush, Mr. Novak,” Dean chuckled, but cleared his throat before his tone turned serious once again, “Still, when we first, y’know, got together we talked about boundaries and stuff. And we were both pretty much on the same page of the same book. I mean, I know neither of us is--fuck, what was the word? Where we’re not, like, disgusted by sex…?”

“Neither of us is sex-repulsed, yes.”

“‘Sex-repulsed’! Yeah, that. So I know we aren’t sex-repulsed, just wanna cuddle and shit more than we wanna have sex--hell, I even know you’ve talked about being fine with doing sexy stuff as long as like the person you’re with doesn’t make you pretend or anything...so I don’t know why I’m even super worried, I just…”

“You don’t need to be worried  _ at all _ , Dean,” Castiel let his fingers brush under the collar of Dean’s t-shirt, thumb smoothing over the hairs at the back of his neck, “You’re absolutely correct. I am not sex-repulsed, I am more or less...indifferent to sex. You may have caught me by surprise, but I want you to feel as though you can be honest with me. I feel that we share a... _ profound _ bond, Dean, and I hope the feeling is mutual. So--”

“It is, sunshine,” Dean’s tight features had loosened minutely and green glimmered with something more hopeful when he looked up.

“I’m glad,” A knot Castiel hadn’t even felt building in his chest suddenly dissolved. He let a small smile rush to his lips, “That makes me...very happy, Dean. Thank you.”

“Yeah, well…” Dean tucked his face back into Castiel’s shoulder but not before he could entirely hide his own shy smile. Castiel could not help himself from pressing a kiss into his boyfriend’s prickly hair.

“All the more reason I want you to talk to me about anything important to you, Dean. Sexual or otherwise. If it matters to you, it matters to me,” Dean hummed in response, nodding against Castiel’s shirt, “So, I’ll ask you again: what did you want to talk about?”

Dean huffed a breath and shifted slightly under Castiel’s thighs, squeezing his arms around Castiel a little tighter.

“Okay, but--don’t judge me, alright?”

“ _ Dean _ ,” Castiel’s smile did not fade even as he rolled his eyes.

“Here goes…” Dean, sighed, “I...I wanna try jerking off...together…?” 

The last few words were hardly louder than a whisper, but Castiel heard them like deep echoes in a cave.

“B-But, Dean…” Castiel felt ripples of panic surge through him. That...wasn’t something Castiel could give him. His breath stuttered, and his limbs went frigid. But...he’d told Dean. Dean just said he remembered the boundaries Castiel had. He’d told Dean then he was fine with giving sexual stimulation, just not receiving it...he couldn’t give this to Dean. If Dean remembered what he’d said so long ago...did he just not care? Castiel just couldn’t do it--he couldn’t let Dean touch him like that. Did Dean want him to try anyway? He thought Dean had understood,“I...I--”

“Shit,” Dean hissed pulling out of Castiel’s arms slightly. Castiel’s panic now mirrored in pools of green.

“Dean...I--” he wanted to give Dean the world...but the idea of anybody’s hands between his legs…“You want me to ‘jerk’ you off...and then you wanna…‘jerk’ me…?”

Dean’s wide eyes snapped back up to Castiel, “What?!” Dean’s whole body seemed to suddenly envelope his own. Castiel hadn’t realized his arms had dropped away from Dean until they were suddenly pinned to his sides. Dean’s warmth and the familiar smell of his minty deodorant made Castiel’s breaths easier, “Hey, hey, nu-uh, Cas. That’s not what I meant at all! Shit, I really need to get better at my phrasing apparently. I’m never gonna touch you like that if that’s not what you want, alright? I know that’s one of your hard boundaries, buddy. I’d never push that. Do you believe me?”

Dean pulled back enough, eyes still bright with concern and Castiel felt a full body shiver at the unfiltered love that shined through. Of course Dean understood. Why had Castiel even dreamed that Dean would ask the impossible of him?

Castiel nodded, a genuine grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He kissed his boyfriend gently on his slightly parted lips, “Yes, I believe you.”

“You sure?”

Castiel kissed Dean’s forehead next, and pulled Dean back firmly into his chest, holding them in place until Dean melted against once more.

“I’m sure, Dean. I’m sorry I...just misunderstood your meaning. What do you have in mind?”

“Forget it,” Dean huffed, already shaking his head, “I’m not freaking you out like that again.”

Castiel carded his fingers through the other man’s hair, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But I promise, no matter if I freak out or not--we can always talk about whatever needs to be talked about.”

He could practically feel the hesitation and anxiousness rolling off of Dean in waves and cursed his knee-jerk reactions.

“I don’t know…”

“Please, Dean,” Castiel said into spiky strands.

Dean buried his face even closer to Castiel before he sighed. Then he said, “I kinda want us to...jerk off...next to each other. And like maybe we could kiss a little bit, too? ‘Cause, I mean, I know you do that and I know I do it too...I guess I thought it’d be like in-person porn or something but it’s a dumbass idea and I don’t know why I thought you’d be willing--” 

“Okay.”

Dean’s head reared back though his grip on Castiel’s shirt tightened, “What?”

Castiel’s lip kicked up at the corner.

“That sounds like it would be an enjoyable activity, Dean.”

“Yeah?” A hopeful ember burned in Dean’s eyes, “You’re, uh, okay with tryin’ something like that?”

“Yes,” And he truly was, “You’re correct, I do masturbate semi-frequently and I enjoy kissing you. I don’t see why combining the two would be anything but a pleasant experience. I’m certainly willing to try it if it’s something you desire.”

“You’re shitting me,” Dean’s face was radiant though it was obvious that he was trying to bite back a wide grin.

“No,” Castiel’s thumb tugged Dean’s bottom lip out from beneath his teeth--ah, there was that awe-inspiring smile, “I am not ‘shitting you’, Dean. I would love to try ‘jerking off’ with you.”

“You’re gonna make me all weepy with that kinda talk,” Dean laughed and smacked a wet kiss to Castiel’s jaw, “Promise you’ll put that in your vows, huh?”

Castiel knew it was only a joke--but the beating wings of the butterflies in his stomach did not. He hoped that maybe, in the not-so-distant future the butterflies’ enthusiasm would be proven correct.

  
  


::::::::::::::::::::

  
  


Dusk was sweeping a sheer curtain of oranges and pinks over the university campus. Castiel had been a ball of excitement and apprehension as he watched the minutes tick by until he knew Dean’s shift in KU’s mailroom ended. He’d received a diligent series of texts from Dean informing him when he’d gotten off work, when he’d made it back to the dorm, once he’d taken his post-work shower...and, finally, when he was ready for Castiel to come over.

Castiel had been ready and dressed for nearly two hours by the time Dean gave the go-ahead. He’d grabbed up his keys and jacket and been halfway out the door before his roommate, Calvin, had even had time to call out a quick ‘Later, man’.

The walk was taking forever now that distance and how fast Castiel’s legs could carry him was all that was standing between him and Dean. Fears, doubts, and concerns tumbled in his mind. He knew Dean wouldn’t ever push his limits, and everything they’d talked about sounded like things well within Castiel’s comfort zone--but he’d never really be sure that this would go smoothly until it actually  _ went smoothly _ . 

Though Castiel had been on edge for hours now...there was something equally thrilling about the prospect ahead. This was new territory they were exploring together. Though Castiel had a handful of sexual experiences before meeting Dean, he’d never shared more than heated kisses with his boyfriend. He prayed to any deity that was listening that both he and Dean would enjoy themselves...and perhaps grow closer for it.

Before he knew it, Castiel was texting when he’d reached the front entrance of Dean’s building and--as was often the case--he was able to once again slide past the front doors as other students were leaving. The trip up the stairs flew by as though he’d travelled on wings, and suddenly he was at Dean’s door. He raised his hand to knock but the thick wood flung back before his knuckles could reach. 

“Hello, Dean,” he greeted, feeling an unusually wide grin spread across his face.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, a magnificent smile gracing his features. The freckles on the apples of his cheeks shone brilliantly even in the odd, idsutrial lighting of the hallway, “How’s it goin’?”

“Very well, thank you,” Castiel shifted his weight on his feet. Dean’s eyes dropped to the ground and the fingers not clutching the door tapped on his faded jeans. Castiel felt a weight in their silences that he was sure had something to do with the sexual activities they were about to partake in...but he wasn’t sure how to lighten things. His skin prickled, “May I come in?”

“Wha?” Dean’s eyes snapped up and his cheeks were already turning the same dusky pink as the light that streamed through Dean and Garth’s dorm window, “Oh--shit, yeah, sorry. Come on in, buddy.”

He stepped out of the doorway with a half-hearted flourish and didn’t meet Castiel’s eye. He shuffled uneasily into the room, gaze taking in the haphazard state of Garth’s side of the room and the remnants of things he’d decided not to take with him to visit Bess still scattered on his unmade bed. Castiel turned back to face his boyfriend when he heard Dean shut and lock the door. The man stuffed his hands in his pockets but made no move to step any closer. It was the second time in a row he’d forgotten to kiss Castiel’s cheek and, though he completely understood Dean’s nervousness, Castiel still missed rhythm they so often shared.

“So...” Castiel began. His eyes flitted over to Dean’s bed and he felt a chuckle bubble at his lips. The bed was perfectly made, unlike usual, and Castiel could vidily imagine Dean painstakingly tucking in corners and arranging his two pillows so that everything sat just right.

“So, uh, how do you wanna…?”

A little lightness bloomed in Castiel’s chest. What was there to be afraid of? Dean looked just as nervous as Castiel felt...but there was no reason for it. They wouldn’t truly be able to enjoy this new experience together if they did not  _ let _ themselves enjoy it.

“Dean?” Castiel let his shoulders relax from their rigid state and his coat slip off his arms, gently setting it over the back of Dean’s desk chair, “Perhaps we could start with kissing?”

Dean’s whole body seemed to melt a little and a genuine grin took over the pinched nervousness, “ _ Awesome _ .”

In two quick strides, Dean closed the distance between them and wrapped warm, familiar arms around Castiel’s waist. Dean dipped in to capture his lips as his arms wound like vines around broad, t-shirt-clad shoulders. There, in Dean’s arms, was quite possibly the safest place in the world. Each brush of stubbly skin, or soft chuckle puffing warm air across his cheeks gave Castiel a warm, bubbly kind of contentment that he could not imagine ever finding anywhere else--or with anyone else. When he finally drew back to nuzzle into the warm hand that had found its way up to his jaw, Castiel couldn’t hardly remember what his fears had been in the first place.

“I love you, Dean,” He punctuated his words with a chaste peck to the corner of the smiling mouth at eye level.

“Love ya too, sunshine,” Dean chuckled, smacking smooches to each of Castiel’s cheeks with a dramatic, “Mwah! Mwah!”

Castiel scrunched his face, wiping the traces of saliva from his cheeks, but Dean only tipped his head back in a belly laugh at the gesture. When his gaze returned to Castiel, there was a new glimmer of vulnerability there that Castiel had every intention of protecting. They would  _ make _ this a good experience. Castiel would see to that.

“You still sure you’re on board?” Dean muttered in the few inches between them. His breath smelled of toothpaste and multiple sticks of cinnamon gum.

‘Yes, Dean,” he responded, “Are you?”

Dean only nodded and Castiel couldn’t help but give his boyfriend another soft kiss, hoping it at least dashed some of the worries obviously still playing out in Dean’s mind.

“Uh, so how...I mean, do we…?”

For all the confidence Dean typically exuded--and Castiel admired--there was still something so adorable about Dean being consumed in shyness.

“Well, how do you usually masturbate?”

“Oh,” A brand new flush washed over Dean’s cheeks and a bashful smile had him looking at the buttons on Castiel’s shirt instead of his face, “Well, just laying in bed I guess. Nothing special just, like, stress relief before conkin’ out, y’know? I mean, I do it in the shower sometimes, too, but...that doesn’t...really apply...here…”

The flush only became more vibrant when Castiel leaned in to smooch Dean’s freckled cheek once more, “Then, how about we prop up a few pillows and sit on your bed if that’s where you’re most comfortable?”

“Heh.”

Castiel let his hand slide down to intertwine with Dean’s, his boyfriend following easily as Castiel guided him over. Together, they stood at the side of the perfectly-arranged bed. They stared at it.

It was Castiel’s turn to be at a loss for planning, “Where…?”

“Oh, uh,” Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand and released it, lowering himself down onto the small dormitory frame. He shuffled the two pillows that sat against the wall at the head of the bed, and though he fussed with them their positioning didn’t actually change much. Then, in a slow, lumbering scoot, Dean settled against the pillow across from Castiel with his shoulder nearly touching the wall the bed was shoved up against. Slightly anxious eyes looked up at Castiel, “Alright, Cas,” he tapped the vacancy beside him, “Come take a load off, huh? Wait--that was dirtier than I meant it...”

Castiel tilted his head and squinted at his boyfriend. If there had been innuendo in that sentence it was not apparent, “How?”

“Nevermind…” Dean drew his hands in his lap and started to fiddle with his ring again, “You gonna sit down or what?”

Castiel slid in beside Dean, leaving a small space between them. He was entirely uncertain of what the social rules were in a situation like this, but it did not seem like a bad idea to give Dean a little breathing room.

Castiel’s stomach did an aggressive little flop when he remembered something he’d forgotten to mention…

“Dean?” his boyfriend hummed an acknowledgement but only side-eyed him, “Just, um, before we begin, I feel I need to warn you of something.”

That seemed to grab the other man’s attention.

“Yeah sure, Cas. Shoot,” Dean said.

“I’m not sure the best way to put this,” Castiel felt heat in his own cheeks, “While I sometimes masturbate to climax...I am not always successful.”

“Huh?”

Castiel huffed his annoyance at his own lack of clarity, “What I mean to say is: if I am unable to orgasm, please don’t be offended. Even when I do this in private...I am not always able to achieve climax. Sometimes my body, more or less, seems to give up part way through and while the touching is a pleasant feeling it just becomes too little--or too much sometimes and I start to get sore so I have to stop and it’s not even voluntary I just--”

“Hey, that’s okay, buddy,” Castiel hadn’t realized his own gaze had dropped away until he felt strong fingers wind with his own and he looked up to find Dean smiling at him. It was a soothing smile, “Whatever you’re comfortable with, alright?”

“Alright,” Castiel squeezed back.

“Don’t want any nasty-ass chafing,” Dean said around a wry smile that sent goosebumps across Castiel’s arms.

“Indeed,” he found his own grin to match, “So, how do you usually begin your masturbatory sessions?”

“Please, dude, just call it ‘jacking off’ or ‘touching yourself’ or something that isn’t the m-word. It’s freaking me out.”

“Fine. How do you usually begin to pleasure your penis?”

Dean wheezed a laugh, “Fuck, nope, I take it back. Just say ‘masturbate’ again, that is just  _ way _ worse.”

Castiel rolled his eyes but found a smile twitching at his lips nonetheless.

“I ask you again: How do you usually begin when you touch yourself?”

Dean licked his lips, eyes seeming to flit over Castiel’s face before he answered, “Well, open the top drawer there and grab the Equate--the other shit’s sunscreen,” Castiel reached over to the nightstand and retrieved the white bottle with the navy blue lettering.

“‘Baby lotion’?”

“What? It’s, like, super...gentle--sue me.” 

Castiel chuckled but handed his boyfriend the lotion. Dean squirted a generous dollop into Castiel’s palm and then one into his own before tossing the bottle to the side. With his free hand, Dean’s fingers went to the zipper of his jeans. Castiel could already see the obvious beginnings of an erection under the denim and was pleased that Dean already seemed to be enjoying himself. His fingers hesitated at the button before glancing at Castiel’s own lap and he suddenly understood what was holding Dean up. He bagen to undo the fastenings of his own pants until a triangle of his briefs was revealed to the room.

Dean snorted, “Bumblebees? Really?”

“They’re a hugely important part of the global ecosystem, Dean,” Castiel looked down at the cartoon, black and yellow insects dotting the stretchy fabric over his crotch, “And...I think they’re ‘cute’.”

Dean chuckled, hands still awkwardly resting in his lap.

“Damn right they’re cute. You’re friggin’  _ adorable _ , Cas.”

He kissed Castiel’s cheek, pulling away with a smile that had warmth radiating all the way down to his toes, “Thank you, Dean. As are you.”

Dean’s attention returned to popping the metal button and dragging the zipper open. He sofly sighed when the growing bulge in his underwear was no longer constrained.

“Cocks out or cocks in?” Dean asked, hands hovering slightly at the elastic band of his own boxer briefs (Castiel thought he vaguely remembered this particular plaid pair when he’d helped Dean fold his laundry once).

He wasn’t really sure if he had a preference. Of course, he’d seen his own private parts countless times--and a ‘cock’ was a ‘cock’, right? Having grown up with three brothers (and the few times Castiel had tried out pornographic websites) he’d seen other appendages like his. They all looked somewhat similar didn’t they? Did Dean have a preference?

“Whichever you’re most comfortable with.” 

Dean licked his lips, glancing at Castiel’s crotch then frowning at his own, “Maybe start with ‘in’?”

“Cocks in, it is.”

Dean guffawed, “There you go buddy, now you don’t sound like some creepy-uncle, sex-ed teacher.”

“Your uncle was your sex-ed teacher?”

“Wha--? No! Let’s just…” Dean swallowed, “How ‘bout we just start, huh?” Castiel nodded and shoved his lotioned hand down the front of his pants, “Whoa--just really going for it there.”

“Is that not what you just said to do--?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” Dean’s eyes seemed to rake down from Castiel’s and land at his crotch, his own palm sneaking under the plaid pattern. In the close proximity, Castiel could hear Dean’s breath hitch and sigh. The fabric of his underwear dented and rolled as Dean was no doubt beginning to stroke himself, “Shit...keep going.”

Castiel wiggled his hips a little and let himself slouch back into the pillow. His head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut as he began to move his hand. The minute tingles and waves of warmth that washed outwards from his ‘cock’ were soothing and tickled his brain. The lotion paved a slick path for his hand, as his fingers started with easy touches. He’d learned over the years that the best way for him to feel any sort of fullfillment from this particular activity, he needed to--more or less--start with foreplay first. If he had any hope of maintaining his erection and reaching an orgasm he needed to build up to it.

He took a few deep breaths, picturing the blood flowing down to his cock. Just like visualization helped redirect his bloodflow when he felt a headache coming on, he’d accidentally realized that the reverse was true. He skimmed the pulse along the underside of his cock, concentrating and trying to feel the pulse of his heartbeat with his fingertips.

“Hmm,” Castiel sighed when his body was rewarded with a tingly thrum of pleasure. Perhaps he would get to ‘come’ after all.

Regardless of his body’s internal reaction, there was always something satisfying about the sensation of touching this part of his body. The warm, velty-soft skin of his cock and scrotum was a texture that had no comparison. As he continued his gentle strokes he relished in the feeling. At times, masturbation could feel like the most in-tune he was with himself. It felt like a genuine form of self-care. He was being gentle with and soothing his body in a way only he knew how. It was like giving all his nerve endings an all-encompassing hug.

“Fuck... _ Cas _ …”

Castiel wasn’t sure how long he’d had his eyes closed, floating somewhere within his own mind, but the breathy growl of Dean’s voice snapped him back into his slouchy place in Dean’s dorm on his bed. His eyes slid open as he let his hand start to grip and slide with more intention. He could feel that his cheeks had warmed with a flush in the time since he’d started. When he let his head loll to the side he was met with dark eyes, now only edged in green. Dean’s lips were slightly parted and Castiel found that Dean’s head had inched slightly closer. He looked utterly blissed out--a breathtaking look on the man. 

The sight filled Castiel with a light, cozy feeling that he usually only experienced when he and Dean were cuddled up under a blanket and watching a movie. It made something flutter in his chest that whatever Dean was experiencing, Castiel seemed to be playing a large part in making this person he loved feel good.

Dean’s hand had sped up a little as it rustled in his boxer briefs, the flaps of his jeans being jostled with each stroke. To Castiel’s amazement, Dean seemed to shudder each time he merely glanced at Castiel’s own moving hand. He felt a smirk tug at his lips. He rather liked how he was able to give Dean such pleasure so passively. He liked it a lot. And...it gave him an idea.

Castiel met dilated eyes and rosy everything as he asked, “Dean?”

His voice was a rough whisper since talking at a regular volume felt like it’d break whatever wonderful trance Dean seemed to be under. Pink tongue darting over already slick lips, Dean let out a small whimper that only made Castiel grow more confident. Oh yes, Dean was definitely enjoying himself.

“Would you like me to take my cock out now?” He hummed, taking care to keep his voice a little extra grumbly for Dean, “See what I look like when I’m touching myself?”

Dean’s eyes snapped shut and a gasp stuttered out of him, his wrist seeming to twist faster as his hips wriggled, “ _ Guahh _ ,” His forehead dropped at an awkward angle onto Castiel’s shoulder, but if Dean’s neck hurt nothing in his face showed it. His boyfriend took in a shaky breath, his head starting to nod. He groaned, “God-- _ yes _ .  _ Cas _ ...please?”

When Dean’s eyes finally returned to Castiel’s, he’d have sworn the man’s blown pupils had somehow grown rounder. Castiel kept his gaze fixed on his Dean’s face, his free hand pulling down the elastic and letting a swoosh of air ripple over his cock.

Dean’s eyes darted down to the newly-revealed flesh like a shot and the yelp that escaped plush lips drew a chuckle from Castiel. The man’s eyes went from wide to droopy and sedated in mere seconds, his jaw slackening even further. Castiel was entranced--he would’ve never been able to imagine how much joy it gave him to know he was the reason Dean looked so awash in sensation.

Castiel continued to stroke himself in an unhurried rhythm. The more attention he paid to Dean, the less he was able to concentrate on building up his own orgasm--but he hardly cared at this point. He was still plump and precome continued to slick his palm, but there was no tension in his lower belly, no hot coil winding up and waiting to be released. And, as long as he got to keep watching Dean’s mounting pleasure color his beautiful features, Castiel was more than content to simply enjoy his body without any end goal. It was somewhat of a relief actually.

“Do you enjoy watching me, Dean?” The answer was beyond obvious, but it still gave Castiel unending satisfaction when Dean bit his lip around a small, breathy sound, “Does it make you hard to see me stroking myself?”

“Yeahyeahyeah-- _ Caass _ ,” Dean moaned, eyes flickering back up to Castiel’s. At the speed his hand seemed to be racing, Castiel was sure Dean would meet his own climax sooner rather than later, “Mmmmmm... _ please, Cas _ …”

Dean’s gaze flickered to Castiel’s lips and his eyebrows turned up in a silent plea. Castiel had nearly forgotten half of Dean’s original idea. He felt a smile draw up and he leaned in closer to Dean, nosing at his boyfriend’s cheek. Dean huffed a breath. Bringing his free hand to cup Dean’s perfect jaw, Castiel guided their heads to harmonious angles. He quickly found that Dean’s usual dominance in their kisses seemed to have melted away along with his ability to convey full sentences. The soft lips that met his own were pliable and obedient, wanting Castiel to take the reins and guide them. A surge of love squeezed Castiel’s chest and he stroked his thumb over the apple of Dean’s cheek. He gladly took charge of their movements, rocking their mouths together and nipping Dean’s bottom lip between his teeth until Dean whimpered. The bed shifted beneath Castiel and he wasn’t quite sure why until, in his periphery, he caught sight of Dean bucking his scarlet-red erection up into his fisted hand as the fingers of his free hand massaged the drawn skin of his scrotum.

When they finally pulled back for a breath, Castiel kept their foreheads held firmly together. It reminded him of mated swans curving their necks to nuzzle beaks, “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

He hadn’t really thought to call Dean by the pet name before--but it was more than appropriate. Dean Winchester felt things more acutely than anyone Castiel had ever known--even if he didn’t like to show it. He truly had a  _ sweet _ heart.

“So-- _ unnh _ ,” Dean’s eyes were squeezed shut and Castiel felt the man’s breath stutter as much as he heard it, “S’ good…”

“Good,” Castiel purred around a smile that hadn’t faded once since they’d started whatever  _ this _ was, “You’re so beautiful, Dean. So lovely like this.”

He tilted his chin to drop a kiss on each squinched eyelid, Dean keening into the palm still cupping his jaw.

“Caass...baby...” Dean whispered.

Castiel’s hand slipped down to rest on Dean’s neck, thumb teasing his Adam’s apple with delicate strokes.

“Do you think you can come like this?” The words felt like they were bubbling up out of nowhere, seeking to pull more remarkable sounds from those full lips. Did this constitute ‘dirty talk’? If Dean’s beautiful noises were to be believed then, yes, it most certainly was, “Are you close, my love?”

Dean whined, bed nearly bouncing, “Close, baby... _ so close _ …”

Castiel’s fingers absently brushed along the worn collar of Dean’s t-shirt. Would Dean like it if he touched his freckled chest while they did this? Maybe they’d try that next time.

He smirked and kissed the bolt of Dean’s jaw, “Are you going to come with me kissing you--while you  _ fuck  _ your own hand?” 

Castiel’s wandering touch fell to Dean’s thigh.

“Ca-- _ unhhhhh... _ ” Dean seemed to startle at the combination of caressing fingers by his hip and the rare profanity Castiel had known would get a rise out of him. Green eyes seemed to pop with some surprised sensation before squeezing shut, mouth dropping into a loose ‘O’ shape. Castiel actually felt the shudder under his palm before Dean’s whole body seemed to buckle forward into his own. Dean’s pistoning hand jerked to a stop and the dark shadow of a new wet patch spread across plaid, little white droplets being pushed through the knit of the fabric with all the pressure behind them. The whole thing was incredible to behold.

Castiel dropped his mostly flacid length back against his belly and brought both of his arms up to hold Dean close against his chest. Dean’s breaths were panting and gaspy where they fell on his t-shirt. Castiel carded his clean hand through sweaty hair and kissed at Dean’s temple though the angle wasn’t quite what he was used to.

“That was amazing, Dean,” Castiel grinned against the strands under his lips, unable and unwilling to hide his happiness, “Truly. How do you feel?” Dean shuddered in the circle of his arms, forehead staying tucked into the crook of Castiel’s neck. He ran his knuckles lightly over the bumps of Dean’s spine, smiling growing the longer Dean seemed to remain speechless. Had Dean really been that overcome with pleasure? “Dean?”

“Uh…” Dean’s hands clenched where they had fisted in Castiel’s shirt somewhere along the line. Dean still was not answering, and Castiel frowned.

Castiel guided Dean’s chin up with two fingers by the point of his chin. But Dean’s eyes darted anywhere but Castiel’s, his bottom lip quivered when he swallowed and he bit down on it. Red was edging his lashes. Dean’s eyes were misty. 

“ _ Dean _ ?” Panic licked like flames at Castiel’s insides, burning away the remaining pleasantness. He felt himself suddenly holding Dean tighter as his heart picked up pace, blood rushing in his ears, “Dean, what’s wrong?”

The other man began to worry his bottom lip between his teeth. He shook his head and buried it back against Castiel’s neck. Castiel’s hand cradled the back of the man’s head, thumb dancing over the shell of his ear. His brain tore apart the last however-many-minutes, trying to find any hint as to why his boyfriend was on the verge of tears.

“Nothin’,” Dean croaked, “Was good.”

Castiel might’ve been amused by the other man’s utter inability to lie to him, but there was nothing but dread and guilt rolling like thunder in his mind.

“I--I don’t understand,” Castiel tried, “Please, Dean, what happened? Did I hurt you?” A horrifying thought swept through him, “Oh my--did I push you too far? Why didn’t you say anything? Dean,  _ please _ tell me what’s wrong…”

But Dean had looked so happy. He’d looked like he was nearly drowning in sexual gratification. Had he gotten overwhelmed? Was the talking too much? Was the kissing not what Dean had wanted after all? He’d seemed to like it at the time but--oh God, had Castiel’s hand tracing down the front of his body been unwelcome? Castiel kicked himself with an iron boot. He should’ve asked permission before doing that! This was all unexplored space for them and Castiel had just romped right on through--

Dean fervently shook his head against Castiel’s shoulder but still didn’t look up, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Cas, I swear I just--” His low timbre cracked around a wet noise that was thick with emotion. Dean’s lips smacked, “Shit. I’m so sorry, Cas! I swear I didn’t know I would’ve told you if I did but I didn’t and this was a fucking stupid idea--why the hell did I think this would help anything--”

“Dean,” The panic still rolled like an undercurrent in his stomach, but he believed Dean. If it wasn’t something Castiel had done...what on Earth about any of that could Dean have interpreted as his fault? He kissed the crown of Dean’s head, “Slow down and take a deep breath for me.”

He felt the shuddered rise and fall of Dean’s ribcage against him. And then another much steadier breath along his collarbone. He soothed one hand across his boyfriend’s shoulder blades and pulled a stray blanket over their lower bodies so they wouldn’t have to move.

“O-Okay.”

“Okay,” Dean’s fingers loosened slightly in the cotton of his shirt. It was as good a sign as any, “Now...what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean mumbled, squishing his face closer.

Castiel nuzzled his own cheek into the fluff of Dean’s hair, “That did not answer my question, Dean.”

“I…” he heard the click of Dean licking his lips, “I don’t think I’m...totally ace.”

“Hmm,” Those were not the words Castiel had been expecting, but infinitely better than a million things Dean could’ve said. Also not the most surprising, if he examined what they’d just shared more closely, “Why do you think that?”

“Well,” Dean sighed, “I’ve been--shit, I don’t know how to describe it, but I’ve been feelin’ some weird stuff lately. Like, urges and stuff I’ve  _ never _ felt before.”

“Urges?”

“Uh, yeah. Toward...you.”

Huh. Castiel was not quite sure what to make of that. It was incredibly flattering to say the least--but what did it mean to Dean?

“Is that why you wanted to try mutual masturbation with me?” Castiel asked.

“Heh,” Dean’s chuckle held none of it’s usual sunniness, “Yeah, I guess. It was dumb, though. I knew I was startinng to get wanna-fool-around-with-you feelings and--I guess I thought maybe I wouldn’t like doing sexy stuff with you as much as I’d thought? But, I mean, all you did was touch my thigh and I came like a fucking geyser,” he sighed, “I did some research online and, well, coming like  _ that _ \--’cause of you--was kinda the final nail in the coffin for me.”

Castiel furrowed his brow, “What does the coffin represent in this metaphor?”

“It means I--” Dean swallowed, his voice turning to a whisper, “I think I’m demisexual, dude.”

“Demisexual?” Castiel repeated. Dean nodded, and Castiel could practically feel the anxiety seeping form Dean’s pores. It made something in his chest squeeze painfully, “Why did you tell me you were sorry, Dean?”

The pause that followed felt thick and itchy in Castiel’s ears. Another sigh rumbled up from somewhere deep in Dean’s belly before he spoke, “Because I know this isn’t what you signed up for--and I get it. When we got together you thought I was ace too and safe and you’d never have to deal with sex stuff again. I was supposed to be somebody you didn’t have to worry about all this shit with--and I turn around and get a hard-on for you and ruin everything. I know you’re fine with doing some stuff if that’s what your partner wants, but...that was supposed to be a problem you didn’t even have to think about with me. I’m just...I’m just sorry that I can’t be that guy for you anymore,” his voice crackled again, “so I get if you wanna just be friends or something now.”

Castiel’s stomach roiled at the thought and he pulled Dean impossibly closer. This time when he turned Dean’s face to meet his, he saw the unbridled fear that betrayed Dean’s casual words.

“Dean, there are so many false assumptions in that statement that I’m not quite sure where to begin,” Something that glimmered like hope flashed in Dean’s eyes, “Let’s unpack all of that together. First of all, I reject your apology because there is not one thing that you’ve told me that you need to be sorry for--though I do wish you’d come to me earlier if this was something you were struggling with. Secondly, you being demisexual doesn’t ‘ruin’ anything between us and I’m so incredibly sorry if anything I’ve ever said led you to believe that--”

“Cas, I didn’t mean--”

“Yes you did,” Castiel combed his fingers through Dean’s hair and felt relief when his boyfriend’s eyes fluttered familiarly shut, “This was obviously something you honestly feared, so I’m sorry for ever giving you cause to feel this way. You being demisexual does not somehow make you any less of a desirable partner in my eyes--quite the contrary. I really enjoyed what we just did together, Dean, even if it wasn’t for the same physical reasons you enjoyed it. I loved that I was able to make you feel good--that I could bring so much pleasure simply by kissing you and talking to you. I need you to believe me when I tell you that there was not one instant that I was uncomfortable or felt not ‘safe’--as you put it.”

Dean’s eyes lightly opened, his gazing searching Castiel’s face--seeming to suss out whether he was telling the full truth, “Yeah? I didn’t, like, cross any lines or anything?”

“Not at all, Dean,” Castiel couldn’t help himself from kissing the freckled cheek just inches from his face. He smiled when he felt that cheek quirk up, “It was a very enjoyable experience for me. You respected what I said about not being able to climax, you never asked to touch me in places I didn’t want to be touched, we were able to be intimate with things I’m already comfortable with like kissing--that’s all I ever need from you, Dean.” 

“So…” Dean hesitated, “You’d maybe be okay with tryin’ that again sometime?”

“Absolutely,” Castiel said, planting a twin smooch on the other cheek, and matched Dean’s beaming smile with one of his own, “We should definitely talk about this more so I can better understand what your new wants and needs might be--but I am more than happy to explore your demisexuality with you if that’s what you’d like.

“Lastly, and most importantly,” he pressed a gentle kiss to Dean’s mouth that had the other man’s smile settling into something more content but no less warm, “When we first started dating one another, I wanted to be with you because you’re smart, funny, and have a heart so big it leaves me speechless sometimes. It’s a great compliment that you feel deeply enough toward me that you are sexually attracted to me, and it’s also a great honor that you trust me enough to share this part of yourself.”

Then it was Dean's turn to surge into a blooming kiss with Castiel, cradling Castiel’s cheek with his unsticky hand. Soft murmurs that sounded something like ‘I love you’ passed from Dean’s lips to his own with each breath and Castiel could not imagine a universe where he could possibly  _ not _ return the man’s love wholeheartedly. 

When Castiel finally drew back enough to take in the fresh flush warming Dean’s features, he chuckled and kissed each cheek twice over before he concluded, “I ‘signed up’ for  _ you _ Dean Winchester. And I fell in love with all the pieces that make you--including all the things you have yet to discover about yourself.”

Dean seemed to shiver and wrapped his entire body around Castiel’s.

“Fuck, Cas, you keep talking like that you’re never gonna be able to get rid of me,” He chuckled, the words softened by the fabric of Castiel’s t-shirt but no less wonderous to his ears. 

Castiel thought of Garth and Bess and the prospect of spending the rest of his natural-born life waking up beside the man in his arms. He thought of exploring new worlds of intimacy in and out of the bedroom as they built their own family, of watching movies and eating Slammers and salads in matching recliners that supported their aged and aching backs just right--what a glorious future to look forward to.

“I suppose I’ll just have to keep talking then.”

  
  


::::::::::  **_Fin_ ** ::::::::::

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I know this is a little different from most of my stuff but there is not a ton of grey-ace works out here so I thought I'd add what I could :)
> 
> If you did enjoy this, I have (currently) one other ace!Castiel work (titled "Angel Food Cake") you can check out if you're interested!
> 
> Comments give me life <3


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